Just Like The Stars Shine
by PenCorp
Summary: A selection of drabble esque pieces, revolving around the too bad so sad relationship of Jiraiya and Tsunade. Non sequential, one or two non cannon.
1. 187

187

Dan had been everything Jiraiya was not. Unflinchingly loyal, a true believer of monogamy and a sweet man to boot. What's more, Tsunade had loved him as deeply as a woman could love a man - a true love, without the convoluted yearnings of a child. Her heart ached as she remembered the flowers and candy, little notes of a pure fluff, and the warmth implied with such simple actions.

She turned away from the rain washed window. The glass reflected a lie Tsunade wished far too long to make a reality.

The older she got, the more it seemed her bitterness ate away at her. Maybe that was why she drank and gambled, all obsessive vices that - like the window reflected her false beauty - reflected a woman far too dependent on things. Dependent on a man's love perhaps. Oh, she was fairly good at going on without it, disguising her problems as easily as her face, but in the end what was she besides a woman?

Dan had given her what she craved for the fastest -

and Tsunade had little patience for boys who got themselves tied to training poles.


	2. 329

329

"You can't leave! You just can't!"

The words were angry, hurt, and came from the broken dreams of a boy who thought the world would stay the same forever. Cynicism was its own pain - and it was the naive who ached endlessly from it. Tsunade knew he didn't mean half the things he said, though it still hurt to hear them.

"You bitch. How could you do this...to the team? To me?"

Tsunade wasn't doing anything - and that was the problem. She trusted Jiraiya to find their wayward teammate, she trusted him with everything, if only he'd open his young eyes and understand. In cases like this Tsunade always felt about as useful as a fish in a cooker pot - a fish that was flopping desperately for the sea.

A sea she might reach someday.

The flat bed lurched agonizingly forward, creaking on rotted wheels while the driver bickered with his wife. It was true horses weren't common in Ninja travel - she could walk herself - but they were scattered for the daily use of civilians. Tsunade just felt old at the moment, ever so much more than her twenty-one years, and couldn't make her legs work of their own accord. She didn't even feel like a Kunoichi anymore - she felt more like a woman on her way to something greater than infamy and less than happiness.

Perhaps it was a miserable kind of contentment.

A boy-man with angry bright eyes watched her progress further and further away from him, out of reach, and out of mind. _No_, Tsunade thought, _never out of mind - not really_. Jiraiya yelled another cruel word, before ripping off his shoe and chucking it at her. It fell short about a hundred feet.

Despite all their skill, ninja still couldn't conquer that anomaly called distance.

Tsunade wondered, as she buried her tear soaked face in the folds of her cloak, whether she meant the distance of miles or the distance between two hearts.


	3. 489

489

Tsunade had broken down that awful day. One of the most powerful kunoichi seen for an age _her ass_, she'd fallen to her knees and cried like any other woman. She'd screamed and raged and cursed at nothing in particular, the heavens maybe or even the civilians who averted their eyes as they hurried home to their own fragile families. The two Shinobi of her fiance's team had stood before her, murmuring words that meant little in the end.

How brave he was, how his last thoughts were of her, and how he'd wanted to protect their village.

How Dan had wanted to protect _her_. Tsunade wasn't ashamed to admit how angry she'd been, so damn angry she'd torn up half that street with her brute strength, until someone stooped to restrain her.

Looking back on it now, she burned at the memory of how much stronger Jiraiya had been than her still. He'd wrapped his powerful arms around her rocking body, crouched like a child in the dirt. She'd yelled such hurtful things at him that day, how perhaps he was glad now, glad that her love was dead so now he had his chance.

Tsunade had hated them both so much that day. She'd hated them both because they'd gone and done the same thing to her. They'd left. They'd left.

With the same stupid thought in their heads that somehow she, the greatest medic-nin Tsunade, needed protecting. One from himself, and the other from everything else. Without even trying she could've met her stupid teammate as an equal, and Dan would've never landed a hit. All those ridiculous thoughts had swirled inside her bruised heart and suddenly she'd craved the calmness of the sea.

She hated Leaf and its ability to give and take everything from her.

Tsunade hadn't remembered much after her mindless break down, only the dull, floaty sensation of someone carrying her home.

She'd woken up a day and a half later, achy and hungry and for a few blissful seconds ignorant of everything that had happened. Until she remembered, and then the smell of her bed sickened her and the sight of Jiraiya half-asleep in her chair made Tsunade want to bawl like a child. She wanted to beat him until it didn't hurt anymore, but she was afraid it would never stop hurting.

He had bandages on half his face, and cuts on his arms and hands. It wasn't until a long time later, deep into her cups and losing horribly at craps, Tsunade had realized she'd inflicted those wounds herself.

Jiraiya had never said anything.

She'd left that day while he was out, leaving only a note and never looking back.

Jiraiya had told her once, drunk and perhaps a little seduced by her ageless beauty, how he'd only gone to get daffodils for her room.

He remembered, he'd slurred, how much she liked those sunny flowers.


	4. 471

471

"I come here often." She said, with a mysterious, albeit fitting, smirk on her heart shaped face. Jiraiya thought she couldn't have been more beautiful had he dreamed her up - which was funny, because technically he was. She was clothed all in white, soft ruffles of silk lace falling to her bare ankles that he suspected wouldn't be so alluring if he wasn't in some sort of drunken black out. After all, he was one of the legendary Sannin, the frog prince himself (what?). He considered hips and a well-endowed bust line more to his tastes, and not bare feet. Bare feet were for husbands, thinking of pretty wives at home, pacing about kitchens with damp curls on their foreheads.

Certainly not capable nin, who could give a girl a run for her money.

His eyes shifted over rolling hills of silver and crystal, cringing at the amount of damage someone like him could do to such a place.

An elephant in a glass store, he thought bitterly. Why did she always make him feel like that? It should've been the other way around he decided, glancing curiously at a hand he lifted in front of his face.

The lines he'd grown accustomed to were gone, the slashing scar he remembered from one particular fight missing.

It'd been a long time since Jiraiya had looked in a mirror, but he suddenly wished for one.

"We're all how we remember ourselves." She murmured, brushing her toes against a blade of silver grass.

He remembered himself as the same person, he thought, except perhaps a decade or so younger with not so many women under his belt. His face hadn't been so broad with worries then, or the usual wear of the insanely strong. He'd had more fun pitting himself in contests with Nin who had no idea who he was, or what village called him there's.

He remembered the love he carried for a particular teammate hadn't dulled to such an aching sadness yet - and he'd only wished she'd call him _her's_.

"...Was I ever anything more than a friend to you, Lady Tsunade?" Jiraiya asked, a little surprised by the higher tone that brushed past his lips. He hadn't heard that voice in such a long time.

She angled her face towards him, tilted on a graceful, swan like neck. Her deep, burned amber eyes curved and she smiled.

He wondered when he'd ever see something so beautiful again.

The glare of silver and crystal brightened to that of the sun and he couldn't hear what she said over the rush of blood in his ears. Or was it water, he thought, before the brightness flicked to black and he was left staring at an empty bottle of sake.

The clear, glassy bottle he'd finished the night before.

A/N - my apologies, I will make some longer ones, but these are mostly pieces that strike me at some of my more depressing moments. From the length, you can tell, me depressions are never very long. I really like Jiraiya, and I hope I haven't tortured him too much for you guys. When I write these, I have to listen to that song by Stevie Nicks, you know, the one from Practical Magic? Laughs. Please review.


	5. 658

698

"Okay, if you think you can take me- " A crooked smile accompanied the words, and anyone who knew Jiraiya the Toad Sage would've scrambled for the hills, but as the backwater little village he'd found himself never even heard of the legendary three all remained unmoved. In fact, most of the gathering throng stared at the foreigner who'd brushed off a challenge from the strongest man in their region - - had only smiled actually, at the prospect of a fight.

Some of them whispered among themselves while others ran off to grab more people in the hopes of inciting further bets; one hundred to one it was their local warrior who succeeded. Obviously, some weirdo with red marks on his face and a rather eccentric demeanor (as the bar maids could attest) was in no way going to beat Tega. Even if the occasional whisper said the man was of a hidden village, said the man was a ninja.

_Said the man would have his frog swallow you whole._

He was handsome and young, which, more than likely was the reason for the challenge in the first place and not some imagined slight to a local hero. A couple women giggled when he flashed a confident look their way, impressed by the strength in his body and anticipatory glint in his eye. Really, he mused, it was funny impressing the ignorant. Jiraiya had gotten so bored with his reputation as it made most shake uncontrollably when confronted with him that he was given to traveling the back roads. He was a man, after all, who liked a good conversation - - just as much as he liked a pretty girl and good booze and an open place to sleep at night - - so why shouldn't he avoid the weight of his name when he could?

Jiraiya was eighteen, young and stupid.

"-I'd be more than willing to fight."

It was a no brainer. He'd won and Tega ran off with his tail between his legs, a couple people in the crowds a few thousand dollars richer thanks to him. Those few people even treated him to drinks, a knowing look in their eyes as they slapped his shoulder and grinned smugly at the men who only had angry wives and empty wallets to look forward to. Jiraiya had been pleased because he rarely had that comradery in his hidden village or other hidden villages (barring the immense few) and determined to enjoy the rest of his night.

The next morning he left. Following the rumors of a woman more beautiful and stronger than any beast that stalked the woods of hidden mist.

Sometimes, when he didn't have the couching security of anonymity or the smiles of ignorant yet kind hearted villagers, Jiraiya wondered why he was always the one chasing (his teammate, _that woman_) and never being pursued or wanted in return. He was young and stupid and bitter with things he didn't like to talk about anymore, but it seemed, on top of everything, he'd always, always be that stupid kid tied to a stump that everyone just forgot about.

The one person who remembered a million miles away ruling his home like a distant father, and not The One he _wanted _to remember. It was funny when he thought about it, how when he was young he'd worked so damn hard to be the illustrious name he was now, and still it didn't make him happy. In fact he avoided it like the plague. It hadn't made him anymore friends, just reaffirmed the ones he already had.

Tsunade had told him to follow their teammate.

Jiraiya had always been contradictory when it came to her, because her voice, her mouth, her eyes, everything told him to be. So, he followed her instead.

Sometimes he didn't even understand his own head and the meandering way it pulled him along.

A/N - bleh. It started out so good too. Well, forgive me, I wanna start writing a real story with Jiraiya and Tsunade. I've missed them and these last couple episodes where Jiraiya makes that comment about asking her out or something once, and never again, made me want to like, cry.


	6. 1055

1055

"Nervous?"

Tsunade twitched a little at the question, quietly glaring before she returned to the window. It was evening now, the time of day when the sun disappeared across the horizon and shadows lengthened into infinity. She watched as the remnants of life in the small village finally died out, and all that could be heard was the call of a nightingale. It was only seven o'clock, too.

Tsunade peered at her old teammate out of the corner of her eye and frowned. _Stupid Jiraiya_, she thought bitterly to herself, it just had to be him that accompanied on her first 'solo' mission.

She snorted.

She used 'solo' loosely, because it was more a test to see what limits Leaf's best and brightest could be forced to without breaking. If there was one thing hidden village's liked to know it was how much their men could take - because, like any good weapon specialist will tell you, their blades and knives and toys are only as good as their understanding of them. It was death to have a sword snap on you.

And such things were never more important in the wake of a war.

Tsunade leaned her forehead against the window. It was surprisingly cool after the hot day, the little annex of wind country suffering dutifully in the midst of a dry season.

Her charge had already been memorized and destroyed before leaving fire country, Jiraiya laughing and jesting along behind her. For a moment, she'd wished Orochimaru hadn't been off on his own mission, or he could've accompanied her instead. Tsunade took another covert glance of her stupid teammate. He was flipping through the girly magazine he always kept stashed in his pack, underneath the kunai and empty scroll or two.

Tsunade refused to acknowledge how she knew that exactly.

"It's okay you know, I was nervous too," she could hear the grin, even from behind his twenty-seventh issue of Naughty Ninjas, "-buutt, it's sort of like you're first time, you know? Hurts a little at first, might be blood, but then when you really get into - and barring any gun jumpers - I promise you'll enjoy it."

He made a crossing motion in the air. "Cross my heart."

Tsunade blushed a little, angry that Jiraiya still had the power to embarrass her, even after six years of insipid innuendo. She really wished that Orochimaru had come now, because at least he would've been silent instead off offering so many pointless encouragements. _Erg,_ she truly _despised _Jiraiya.

"...Almost time?" Sighing, Tsunade closed her eyes for a moment, before glancing up at the clock on the far wall. It was nice they'd managed to rent a room so well furnished for what must be a trickle of clientele. She wondered if they even _had _tourists during the dry season.

Twenty minutes of eight.

The sound of pages being ruffled let Tsunade know that her silence was noted and that her old teammate was still her friend and in a way would always be her teammate, so she should say something. Anything, at least.

_How in the hell had she gotten to understand _Jiraiya _so well, anyway?_

"I'll leave in ten minutes."

It was silent for half a heart beat.

Then, "You ever wonder what you can _do _in ten minutes?"

Tsunade thunked her head against the window and rolled her eyes, again. "Will you ever _stop _being a perverted letch?"

A dry chuckle, and Tsunade couldn't help grinning into the glass, a sense of confidence that had been previously lost returning in a tidal wave. It was a warming comfort, because she felt like herself again, instead of some quivering child. She knew the mission she was about to face was potentially damning (to her morals, her soul, which somehow existed without her consent) but with a friend along, perhaps it wouldn't be too bad.

In all her childish anger of his personality, she'd forgotten exactly why it was a good thing Jiraiya had come.

Though she might condemn herself, (hell, even Orochimaru would've looked down on her if she'd come back broken) Jiraiya, she knew, would always smile and say 'Que sera, sera.'

Because for him, there would always be a next time and Tsunade didn't have to be perfect.

Maybe, she reflected, it was why she hated (loved) him so much.

"You never -" Tsunade paused as she adjusted the decorative kimono around her body, patting at the concealed senbon in her hair, "laughed when I wore those heels for the first time, did you?"

Another heart beat of silence, and she figured if this was one of those ridiculous shojo manga he'd be embracing her and dropping a soft kiss on her lips. It was a bitter lesson, but Tsunade had already learned that dreams don't often (if ever) reflect reality.

Losing her brother, a grief that never fully gave her rest, was testament to that.

He rolled up the magazine and tucked it into his bag next to the bed. Tsunade could almost see the shift in him, a palpable change from sweet - talker to serious comrade, one who hadn't abandoned her yet.

It made her feel braver still.

He grinned boyishly and suddenly he was in front of her, to close, far to close for her heart to take. A tickle in the back of her tightly wound hair, something adjusted to someone else's preferences.

Tsunade felt annoyed that she _wanted _that stupid shojo dream.

"It wasn't funny. I like it better when your comfortable with me and those ridiculous scraps of leather made you feel even more out of place than when you grew in boobs."

She glowered and wasn't sure if she wanted to pummel him or hug him because he was so damn intuitive for a _boy_.

So she settled with closing her eyes, sidestepping and waltzing out the door.

"I'll come find you, Tsunade, when your done."

It was a strange good-bye, and she waved vaguely in response.

The funny thing was, for being a cheap flirt and philanderer, Jiraiya always did make good on his word.

A/N - I liked this one the most I think, its almost on par with unnamed 489, which previously had been my favorite. Guess I got two favs now. Review, plz, I really like hearing what people think.

Oh, and did you notice the 'I'll come find you,' wink, wink? It thought it was a cute thing to drop in.


End file.
